


Regretting Destiny

by nrswho



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M, M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nrswho/pseuds/nrswho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years ago I sat up late with one of my best friends reading and writing fics based on Smallville.  We would both watch the episode and review it, then write something small.  This is one of the pieces written during that time.  somewhere between 8-13 years ago. This piece is just a man looking back at the past and postulating the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regretting Destiny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museaway (museattack)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=museaway+%28museattack%29).



I remember everything. The way he tasted on that sweet November night. How he cradled me against his chest, and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. But life is seldom kind, and I left that morning with a feeling that we’d never go back there again. And I was right, the barn, his mansion, the cool night breeze; they were never the same again.

I remember the phone call at nine am, the following morning. How he said his father was sending him back to Metropolis, and how he would miss me. He’d said he’d write, and call, and email. Yet, I knew that none of those would happen. There was something in the pit of my stomach that tasted much like battery acid. 

That was nearly five years ago. And here I am a novice reporter for the Daily Planet. Working under a man who very nearly found out exactly who and what I am. Perhaps had I told him who I was, we’d still be together under the moonlight in the hay loft of my parent’s barn, but I couldn’t. As much as I’d loved him… I couldn’t trust him with that secret. 

As the years passed, I knew I should be the one to make the first move, yet I was too hurt to swallow my pride and dial his cell. It would still be the same. And if I were to dial it now, I’m sure it would still be a direct link to the man who still consumes my dreams. 

Even as I gain popularity in the media world, I find my mind drifting back. I replay every stroke and kiss, ever moment of bliss in his arms, and the hours seem to drift by rapidly leaving me with little time to finish the current piece I am working.

I make up for the lost time, super speed helps in these cases, though I tend to go through more keyboards than most people go through their entire lives. I chalk it up to poor manufacturing and the people in the office never assume anything out of the ordinary.

Well, almost no one assumes anything. There is one. She has the eyes of a reporter and the heart of one as well. Oddly enough her work ethic reminds me of a girl in Smallville, yet her looks remind me of another. 

I’d often thought during high school that if those two girls were one and the same, each keeping the highest attributes they possessed, that would be the one person for me. Though I now know that is not the case, because the one person for me is steadily gaining power as I sit here. 

He is quickly turning from the person I knew and loved, into his father. And his father is someone I had hoped he’d never aspire to be. Of course my father was right; Wealth and Prestige tend to warp a person’s sense of the world around them. I’d only hoped he would be mistaken.

Looking down at the nylon/spandex suit my mother had sewn me, I fingered the material. It was red and blue with the insignia that traveled with me from home to this fair planet. And then I’d heard it. A cry for help, it was rather distant, but I still had to try to help the person in distress. 

I couldn’t be a conqueror. I wasn’t raised that way. In a blur of red and blue, I had changed. The clothes I was wearing folded neatly on the sofa where I was sitting. Like a flash I flew out the window into the night. Thoughts still race around my head. But with a deep breathe I quelled them, and began the job I was chosen for; that I had chosen to do.


End file.
